


Don’t Be Upset.

by RougueShadowWolf



Series: 15 Minutes [197]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek Hale Bakes, M/M, Sad Stiles Stilinski, Scott is a Bad Friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-12
Updated: 2018-04-12
Packaged: 2019-04-21 02:43:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14275185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RougueShadowWolf/pseuds/RougueShadowWolf
Summary: Stiles started out disappointed with his birthday, but then Derek made it all better.





	Don’t Be Upset.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there. (Trying to post this now, wish me luck)
> 
> To all who aren't familiar with this series, know that each tale is writen in 15Minutes, so no great works are to be found here. Here you'll find hurried writting and bad spelling and horrific grammar, if can't handle it then DO NOT READ this fic. Each tale is a small payment to my friends who have been very supportive of me during the past few months, and who now are here to sort of help me crawl back into being me. 
> 
> So, this tale is to my friend who is called for this time around Aftershock-Agency wanted a tale with Injured Stiles and Stiles having a not so great birthday, but then Derek makes it all better.

Stiles knew he shouldn’t be upset about some of his friends forgetting his birthday, after all some of them had never wanted to celebrate his birthday before, and yet he’d foolishly hoped that things had changed enough for his birthday to be worthy of some form of recognition.

 He’d imagined that this day was at least worth a couple of Happy Birthday wishes sent in his direction, and yet none came his way. He'd foolishly believed something had changed between him and those he viewed as his friends and pack, He’d thought that he’d earned for at least _someone_ to wish him a happy birthday.

 Clearly Stiles had been wrong about things changing, _nothing_ had changed even though he’d been there for _everyone_ in the pack.

 No, something had changed, Scott had changed, their friendship had clearly changed, Stiles’ worth in Scott’s eyes and priorities had changed. Stiles wasn't someone Scott really thought about, unless something was needed from him, and what was needed from Stiles today was more ice for a party that wasn’t for Stiles but for Isaac of all people. 

A welcome home party for Isaac was all fine and good. Stiles honestly didn’t mind that Scott felt the need to throw Isaac a party, after all Stiles knew that Scott had missed Isaac terribly.

 Still, although Stiles understood why Scott wanted to throw Isaac a party, there's a small and somewhat bitter part, that wished that Scott would’ve at least wished him a happy birthday at some point of the day. Instead all Stiles seemed to get were stuff-like, `Dude, remember the ice " and the one that really soured Stiles' mood was the angry way Scott greeted him when Stiles stepped inside the loft.

 ` _Took you long enough. ´_ came out of Scott with the same harshness with which Scott took the bag of ice Stiles had brought with him. 

 Stiles did try and join the fun, but his heart simply wasn’t in it, and frankly he was rather sure that no one would exactly miss him if he left the party which he did without a word.  

 He’d thought that after what happened the last year that Scott would make an effort, or that Lydia would at least wish him a happy birthday, after all they’d seemed genuinely upset about forgetting his birthday and for him getting hurt because no one thought he needed to know about the hunters that had rolled into town the previous year. Stiles had lost two fingers to the hunters, and yet no one seemed think his birthday was worth to remember, Stiles’ knee was messed-up and still he hadn’t even earned a single Happy Birthday wish from his so-called friends. It seemed staying loyal and keeping your mouth shut tight, losing parts of your body and some mobility, didn't earn you Happy Birthday wishes. 

 Driving straight home Stiles decided he’d ignore those he’d considered his friends for at least a few days, if not longer since he was getting sick of being used and forgotten.

 Reaching his house, a house that was now all his after his dad and Melissa decided to move together, Stiles parked the car he’d had to buy once it was clear there was no saving his beloved Jeep which was another price of people forgetting to warn him about hunters. This boring car certainly ran well and had yet to breakdown on him even after two years, but Stiles still disliked it, this was a car without any at all character and would easily vanish in a parking lot that was full.

Letting out a heavy sigh Stiles looked up at the house that was his childhood home.  

 Stiles had to admit that his dad was right, the house really did need a paintjob which his dad had promised they’d get it done come summer.

 _We’ll make it a proper project,_ his dad had said only a few weeks prior while helping Stiles setting-up a bedroom for him in the small room on the first-floor that had been his dad’s office, now the room that had been forbidden to Stiles for many years since his mother and father worried he might find things he was too young to handle, the once forbidden room was now Stiles’  bedroom.

It hadn’t been easy for Stiles to admit that he couldn’t make his way upstairs on his own, and it wasn’t until he’d spent a month sleeping on the uncomfortable couch and it was the  winter chill rolled into Beacon Hills that had Stiles admitting that he had a problem.

Exiting the car Stiles found himself cursing his own pride for making it so bloody difficult for him to use his cane, his want to appear as normal as possible and not weak was the reason his knee was now making itself known rather painfully. 

 Breathing in slowly, breathing out even slower Stiles limped up the rest of the way to the house he called his home. Although heavily saddened by the actions of his “friends” he was still able to focus on his surroundings, as he made his way up to the front-door Stiles allowed his gaze to wander making sure there weren’t any unfamiliar cars parked along the street or hunters hiding in the bushes.

 Once certain that he wouldn’t be dragged away to be tortured again Stiles quickly unlocked the door, slipping inside the house as quickly as he could, locking the door right behind him. When the last and final lock clicked into place Stiles could finally breathe without feeling like he was being strangled from within. Since the last time he got dragged away and tortured, Stiles became ever so uneasy when outside. 

 Telling himself that everything was fine, that he was alright and safe, Stiles turned around.

 `Happy birthday. ´ a familiar voice greeted him softly, with a hint of nervousness.

Standing in the entrance to the kitchen was none other than Derek Hale, a nervously smiling Derek Hale. An actual smiling Derek Hale.

 There’s almost a softness to this version of Derek Hale, the angry edges of the werewolf were gone, leaving behind someone who looked so comfortable and lovely in his own skin.

 If Stiles wasn’t sure he hadn’t taken anything he would’ve believed this to be just another illusion created by his drugged-up mind.

 `Derek? ´ Stiles whispered into the house that wasn’t all that silent, there was soft music playing in the background.

 `Derek? ´ Stiles repeats voice breaking with anxious hope and deep disbelief, and Stiles can’t believe Derek is there. Stiles can’t _really-really_ believe that Derek is there in his house looking so sweet and soft, so nervous and hopeful, and it can’t be real because Derek left and had no reason to come back.

 `Speechless? This is a first. ´ Derek chuckles softly, the sound making Stiles’ knees go weak.

 His fingers itch to reach, to touch, to grasp and hold, to make sure Derek was real, but there’s a part of him that just doesn’t dare to take the risk.

`Derek? ´ Stiles whispers, his heart stuttering in his scared chest as Derek moves to help him out of his jacket, he’s struggling to believe this is all real and he’s trying to figure out if he’d taken one too many painkillers or accidentally drank something spiked at Isaac’s Welcome Home party.

`Yes. It’s me. ´ Derek says his voice delightfully soft, `Hungry? ´

The question was a simple one, but unusual enough coming from Derek that it confused the heck out of Stiles.

`I brought a couple of burgers, ´ Derek starts while hanging-up Stiles jacket before gently taking Stiles by the hand, feeling Derek and the warmth of his skin, the shape and size of his hand so real and solid against his own, eased something dreadfully tight within Stiles chest, and suddenly he could breathe again.

 There’s a gentleness in every movement Derek makes as he guides Stiles down the hall and into the kitchen, Stiles can’t help but search for some sign that this wasn’t the Derek he’d known and missed.

 `And some curly fries too. ´ Derek tells him, a twinkle in his eye as he continues to say, `I know how much you love curly fries. ´

 `You bought me curly fries? ´ Stiles asks still unable to digest this version of Derek Hale who just smiles at him just a little bit wider.  

 `I did. ´ the werewolf says while giving him a little nod.

 `Be honest, would you ever forgive me if I didn’t get you curly fries with the burger? ´ Derek asks while pulling Stiles’ chair out like a proper gentleman. The table that was all set-up for two with all the trimmings such as candles and flowers.

 Everything looked so very romantic and cosy, that it left Stiles feeling truly perplexed. 

`Wha…´ Stiles starts but goes silent when he notices that there’s a birthday cake standing on the kitchen counter.

 ` Manning the fuck-up, ´ Derek tells him while his ears are turning an adorable shade of pink as does his cheeks, Derek’s beautiful eyes turning downward for a moment before continuing, ` and so I decided I’d bring you dinner. And I baked you a birthday cake. ´

 `You – you baked me a cake? ´ Stiles has to ask because this all so strange and lovely that he’s starting to question his own sanity. Derek gives him the tiniest of nods, and Stiles can’t help but think that Derek is ridiculously cute.

 `I did. ´ Derek says before giving a nod in the direction of the kitchen counter, and there standing next to the toaster was a cake that looked good enough to be sold in a bakery, and Stiles can’t help but ask Derek if he’d truly baked the cake all on his own.

 `I did. ´ Derek replies voice almost shy.

 Stiles turns to look at the werewolf and he just has to ask, `Really? You made this? ´

 `Yes. ´ Derek says, before adding almost apologetically, `It’s chocolate.  My mom used to make me a chocolate cake for our birthdays, she couldn’t cook to save her life and neither can I, but bake a chocolate cake that was her thing. ´

 Stiles can’t help but stare at this talkative Derek, this Derek who is willingly telling him stuff about his family.

 `You baked me a cake, ´ Stiles repeats, his heart swelling inside his chest and suddenly Scott and the others were completely forgotten.

 `I baked you a cake. ´ Derek agrees, nodding his head very seriously, `For your birthday. I know I should’ve asked if you like chocolate cake, but I panicked because – I didn’t really have the time to buy you a proper gift so. ´

 `I – I love it. ´ Stiles says with such truthfulness that he was sure it outshined any other truths he’d ever spoken before that very moment, `I love chocolate. I love chocolate cake. I love this cake, ´ and here Stiles turns back around to face the cake Derek Hale had baked him, `And it’s the best birthday present you could ever give me. Thank you. ´

 There’s a moment of silence then, not an uncomfortable one, but the likes of which is needed when appreciating something truly special.

 `So, ´ Derek begins, breaking the silence that had settled between them, the soft whisper of music that Stiles’ had he’d heard his parents dance too as more times than he could count on his fingers and toes, it had been a while since Stiles had heard Ol’ Blue Eyes play within this old house and it had been equally long since he’d heard his father sing to the song now playing; there had been a time when hearing his father sing I Love You Baby was the norm, and yet Stiles could still heart the crystal clear laughter or amusement and joy that followed anytime his dad would put his heart into singing, ` _I love you baby_. ´

 `How about that dinner, and cake afterward? ´ Derek asks him while once more capturing Stiles hand in his own, giving it a gentle squeeze.

 `That – that sounds perfect. ´ Stiles says softly before smiling properly for the first-time in what felt forever, `Sounds absolutely perfect. ´  

 


End file.
